When The Phoenix's Song Ends
by FairytalesOfForever
Summary: Post-HBP. After the attack by Greyback, Bill seeks out advice from Remus and gives some of his own. Draco returns to a Manor that's become Voldemort's headquarters, struggling with his responsibilities as a Death Eater. Tonks is determined to convince the love of her life that he IS the love of her life. What happened after the last note of Fawkes' song faded?
1. Advice

**A/N: This is just a fun little idea that I had the other day and decided to create for you all. Half-Blood Prince is easily my second favorite movie because I love how they portrayed Draco, although I was a little sad about the lack of Remus and the lack of the Remadora argument. That all said, I hope you enjoy this little piece! Please review; it matters so much to me and I love to hear what you have to say about my stories :)**

Every Weasley in the vicinity was looking at him.  
Except for Bill.  
Again.  
Remus sighed. It had been almost a week since Bill was attacked by Greyback, and ever since, every time he did something unusual, the Weasleys looked to Remus for answers. Of course he wanted to help the Weasleys; they were kind, wonderful people, but his condition and werewolves in general were never subjects Remus was entirely comfortable discussing. He didn't like to reveal as much as he was having to now about everything he went through. Sometimes he wondered if maybe it was something he simply needed to get over, but if his deep-seated hatred of what he was hadn't faded in just over thirty years, Remus doubted that it would now.

This time, the Weasleys along with Remus and a few other Order members had been sitting down to dinner (Remus had finally accepted Molly's begging to come) when Bill asked hesitantly, "Mum, are you sure the meat's not a little...overcooked?"

"That's how I always make it, dear," Molly replied, somewhat confused.

"That's probably one of the side effects," Remus said quietly, since he knew someone was going to ask him.

"But you've never complained," Molly pointed out.

Remus shrugged noncommitally, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. "It's not so bad. I mostly got over it when I was younger."

Arthur and Molly glanced at each other and frowned.

"Sorry, Mum," Bill mumbled, clearly regretting having mentioned anything. Remus understood.

"Oh, no, you're quite all right," Molly replied hurriedly. "Do you think you can finish it or should I fix something else?"

"It's not that bad," Bill said quickly, fiddling with his earring. Remus could feel his embarrassment and knew that there were looks of concern spreading around the table, but he wasn't sure if there was anything he could do about it.

Fleur, at Bill's side, stroked his ginger ponytail consolingly, murmuring something in his ear. Remus wasn't entirely sure of his opinion on Fleur. Despite her undeniable beauty and flowery airs, he wasn't overly fond of her; still, he trusted Bill's judgment, and marrying her would make him happy, then so be it.  
 _Would being with Tonks make you happy?_ a little voice whispered in his mind.

That was the first time he'd thought of her since the battle. They hadn't seen each other since then, they'd been so busy rebuilding the broken Order. Remus glanced at one of the paintings on the wall, just to give himself something to look at.

 _My happiness is not as important as hers.  
_

 _And has she been happy with you pushing her away?_

 _She will understand...  
_

 _But will she? Will you throw away a chance at joy you haven't had in sixteen years?_

Remus sighed and twisted his scarred hands together. Sometimes he wished he wasn't so logical, even when arguing with himself.

Later, their small group gathered around the fire, with several quiet conversations going on at once. Fleur, surprisingly enough, was helping Molly with the dishes, and they seemed to be getting on better than they ever had, in Remus' memory. Bill was sitting on the floor near the foot of Remus' chair, staring into the dancing flames, and Arthur and Ron were playing wizard's chess at the table.

"I wish I never said anything," Bill muttered. His eyes were still fixed on the fireplace, but Remus knew he was being addressed. He was somewhat surprised; Bill carried such a casual attitude towards almost everything, this tone was unusual, to say the least.

"You can't start thinking of yourself as a burden on everyone else," Remus replied. "It's better that we discover whatever 'normal' will be for you sooner."

"Don't think of myself as a burden?" Bill asked, turning to face Remus and quirking an eyebrow, so his scars shifted around his face. "You give good advice. You ought to take it once in a while."

Remus smiled thinly. "I suppose."

There was a moment of silence before Bill asked, "When is it?"

Remus knew he meant the next full moon. "In two nights," he replied.

"What d'you think will happen to me?" Bill asked curiously.

Remus paused for a moment before he replied, "I don't think you will transform. You might feel strange or have thoughts that aren't your own, but that will be all, I expect."

Bill stared into the fire. "I didn't know how bad it would be. I mean, the side effects I can deal with, but I'm tired of everyone looking at me like they're expecting me to grow a second head."

Remus nodded. "I understand. I'm afraid the only help I can give is providing explanations."

"I've tried to talk to Dad, sort of, but, no offense to you, I'm not sure he really...understands werewolves. It's like he doesn't quite know what to do with me. And Mum..."  
He knew his mother was trying to learn to cope with the new version of her son, but still, there were times when even mentioning what had happened would have her on the verge of tears. Bill yawned, stretching the scars on his face, and Remus smiled thinly. In the flickering orange light of the dancing flames, he looked even more gaunt and tired than usual. Bill knew it wasn't as bad as it was for Remus, but he'd been oddly tired for the past day or two as well.

"That'll be part of it too, I'm afraid," Remus confirmed. "You're not...like me, but you aren't fully human either. You're caught between the two, in a way."  
Bill frowned at Remus' unspoken description of himself as not human.

"Give your mother time," Remus advised. "Give everyone time. Chances are, you'll get used to it faster than they will, but be patient. It seems as if Fleur, at least, doesn't mind," he added with a faintly amused glitter in his eye.

Bill grinned, thinking of his beautiful soon-to-be wife. He knew that she and his mother had been on thin ice for a while, but they seemed to be getting on much better now. Apparently, something good had come out of the attack after all. Well, two somethings. He'd been on a mission with Tonks and she had vented to him about her frustration with Remus, as well as a hint of hope.

"Soon things around here won't be as chaotic," Bill noted. "You might actually get a chance to see Tonks then."

Judging by the slight surprise on Remus' face and the way he stiffened at her name, Bill knew he had hit on the truth. "She's mad at you, you know. Mad for you, too."

Remus swallowed and studied the wall behind Bill. "I'm quite aware that she's not very happy with me," he said stiffly, ignoring the latter half of Bill's comment.

"Oh, come off it," said Bill, leaning back against the chair. "You do know everyone thinks you're being an idiot about this whole thing."

Remus half-shrugged, still refusing to meet his eyes. "I've given it consideration, but I still believe that she deserves-"

"Whatever she wants," Bill finished. "Don't be ridiculous. She wants _you_ , not whoever you think she deserves. Besides, considering that in most respects you're absolutely brilliant and refuse to admit it, I doubt you're a fair judge of your worth to anybody."

Remus did not reply, but Bill took that as a sign that he'd said something worth thinking over.  
Just then, one of Ron's chess pieces was captured and it clattered to the board. It wasn't particularly loud, but both Bill and Remus winced.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Arthur and Molly glance at each other, looking concerned.

"So that's part of it too?" Bill muttered.

"Uncomfortably enhanced senses," Remus nodded. "I should have expected that."

"Will you be here...that day?" Bill asked.

"Normally I stay home on the day of the full moon, but I suppose this time I'll be here. I won't stay for very long, however."

Bill nodded, gratitude clear in his scar-slashed eyes. "Thank you," he said.

Remus hesitated before getting up to leave. "I believe I ought to thank you as well."


	2. Back To The Manor

**A/N: I can't be the only one who wondered what happened after Draco, Snape, and the others fled Hogwarts after the battle. Well, here's my imaginging of what happened. Please review; it always makes my day!**

"Draco!"

Draco jumped at Bellatrix's hissing in his ear. He hadn't realized that he'd been standing, frozen, staring at the Astronomy Tower—the Mark above, and the clump of people below.

He knew what they were clustered around.

"Coming," he mumbled, and followed her and the other black-robed Death Eaters away from the castle.

Draco felt like his stomach had been replaced with a solid lump of ice. He wondered if he was going to be sick. He was trying to marshal his emotions into orderly, even rows, to put on a noble expression and be proud of what he had accomplished; that, after all, was the Malfoy way. And yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew all about pride. That was what he was supposed to feel, but instead, he felt shaken and scattered.

"Hurry up, boy!" Bellatrix snapped next to Draco's ear. He flinched, chiding himself for how jumpy he'd become. "Aww, Cissa's little baby's scared," she mocked. Draco forced his hands to stop shaking.

 _These people are on my side. I should be safe._

He couldn't convince himself of that. Bellatrix didn't distinguish between family and the enemy (sometimes they were one and the same) and there were many others among the Death Eaters who weren't in it for the cause. They simply enjoyed malicious violence, no matter who was the target.  
Once they were far enough from Hogwarts that they could Apparate, the whole group Disapparated. Draco was slightly surprised when they landed at Malfoy Manor; though a few meetings had been held at the Manor over the summer, he hadn't realized it had been officially named as headquarters. He almost dreaded seeing what changes had been made to the inside.

"Follow my lead."

This was the deeper, slower voice of Snape. Of course he would be here. Draco felt as though he should be angry at Snape for finishing his task, but he wasn't. In fact, he might've even been grateful if he hadn't felt so...empty. It was as if the turmoil of raw emotion he'd been trapped in all year had suddenly drained away, leaving him internally exhausted.

Snape walked towards the massive gates of the Manor. Usually, to Draco, those gates welcomed him into his home and his comfortable life. However, now they seemed to be barring him out.  
Then Snape walked _through_ the gates, and they turned to smoke where he stepped through. Draco, as he'd been told to do, followed suit.

His parents must be in the Manor; he could only imagine what they were feeling. Well, what his mother, Narcissa, was feeling. As for Lucius...Draco feared he might hate his father. Everything he'd gone through, the stress, the humiliation, the pressure...all of it was his father's fault. And now, with their fortune dwindling and the Malfoy name sinking into the mud, Draco wasn't the only one suffering. They all were.

 _Serves him right. But Mum doesn't deserve this._

Inside, the first thing that struck him was how _dark_ everything had become. The Manor was usually what he thought of as an inviting combination of marble, mahogany, and several other dark woods with decorations in Slytherin green. Torches on every wall would cast a bright glow over the spotlessly shining walls and floors so that Draco could sit on one of the many velvet couches and read. However, the torches had now been dimmed, and the marble had never looked less brilliantly white. The entrance to the dining room showed him that it was as dim as dusk.

The others went in ahead of him; a meeting had clearly been planned to discuss their victory.

 _And, perhaps, to reward me and Snape_ , Draco thought. However, this didn't cheer him nearly as much as it should've.

However, he straightened his back, ignoring the uncomfortable way the fresh scars on his chest stretched, and followed the others into the dining room.

"Ah, I see our battle heroes have decided to join us."

Draco stiffened. Something inside him rebelled at the sound of that high, cold voice ringing through the dining room of _his_ house, across the table that had hosted the most prominent figures in the Wizarding world. But he didn't say any of this."Yes, my lord," he replied quietly.

"And so humble," the Dark Lord continued almost mockingly. "Sit."

Draco slid into a chair next to his mother.

"It is done?" the Dark Lord queried calmly. "Dumbledore is dead?"

Underneath his tone there slipped a hidden meaning: _If he is not, someone else will die tonight._

"Yes, m'lord," Draco answered, staring resolutely at the table. Every word he uttered to this...this not-quite-man who had taken over his house flooded him with fear. Though he was taking a risk, he decided for once to give credit where credit was due. "Snape did it. He cast the final spell. But I let everyone in."

This was almost too long a statement for Draco to force out; every word could be a potential trap in Voldemort's twisted view.

"I see. And how did you accomplish this, Draco?"

Draco suppressed a shudder at hearing his name. "There's a Vanishing cabinet in—in the castle. There's one in Borgin and Burkes, too. They make a sort of passageway, and I...I fixed it, my lord."

"Fascinating," the Dark Lord murmured. Never mind that they were surrounded by other Death Eaters; this was a private interrogation that the others were privileged enough to watch.

Draco fixed his eyes on his hands, which, despite being clenched tightly around one another in his lap, were shaking badly. A drop of cold sweat slid down his neck. He dared not look up and meet the Dark Lord's soulless eyes.

"Well done," came the calm reply. "Both of you. However, I am deeply disappointed in the rest who were there."

Those around the table who had been at the battle shifted nervously in their seats, but no one spoke.

"How is it," the Dark Lord queried coldly, "that Potter was not brought to me, even with such a number of you there?"

Draco decided to stay silent and let the others take the blame. He, at least, had had a mission which, by whatever means, had been completed.

"We didn't see 'im," Amycus Carrow finally spoke up. "'E weren't there."

"Though I've been compared to a bat, you are apparently as blind as one," Snape cut across him icily. "Potter was indeed there; he followed me and attempted—quite pitifully—to attack me."

The blame was inching closer to Draco; he hoped Snape didn't say he hadn't captured Potter because he was getting "the boy" to safety.

"The aim of the mission, my lord, was to kill Dumbledore—" Draco flinched "—not capture Potter," Snape pointed out silkily.

Draco tensed fearfully. Was his professor actually contradicting the Dark Lord? He was going to get himself killed!

"Though, given the chance, I would gladly have done it, those of... _lesser intelligence_ who could have aided me clearly need specific direction," Snape continued.

"I see," the Dark Lord replied thoughtfully. "It is a shame that I must resort to recruiting their kind; however, they are willing to fight, and this is war. There must always be those who will die."

Draco felt like there was frost creeping up his spine. He hoped desperately that he was not one of "those".

For what wasn't the first time since he'd left Hogwarts, Draco wished he had lowered his wand sooner.


	3. Let Me Love You

**A/N: Here it is, the Remadora chapter that I couldn't resist adding. As always, please review; it makes me so happy to hear feedback on my work. Thanks so much and enjoy!**

Tonks Apparated into the back garden of the Burrow, covered in dust and soot and bearing a few bruises, but otherwise uninjured. That had been (relatively) one of the most uneventful missions she'd been on all week. The sun hung low in the sky; it must be late afternoon, around four or five o'clock, if she had to guess.

" _Aguamenti_ ," she muttered, rinsing the dirt off of herself.

Her hair, however, stubbornly remained mousy brown. At least she'd managed to get it back to its usual short, spiky puff instead of hanging lank around her shoulders.  
At the sound of the Burrow's back door opening, she turned and saw Remus stepping out of it into the garden. A rush of mingled excitement and anger bubbled up inside of her like firewhiskey.

He saw her and stopped short. "Good evening," he mumbled tentatively, not meeting her eyes.

Tonks' fists clenched in frustration, but she took a deep breath and opened them again. As much as she wanted to just shove him against the wall and snog him senseless, she reminded herself that she had to be patient. However, that didn't mean dancing around the issue.

"It's not so hard to look at me, you know," she said.

Remus raised his head and allowed his tired blue eyes to meet hers. He looked exhausted, thin, and pale. "No," he said quietly. "It's hard to look away..."

Tonks was secretly pleased to see him blushing a bit, like a teenager who'd just admitted too much about his feelings.  
"How poetic of you," she teased lightly. "Where have you been?"

"Inside, talking to Bill," Remus replied. "He's trying to sort out how everyone feels about his...side effects. Including himself, I suppose."

"We know how Fleur feels about those 'side effects'," Tonks said hotly. "The same way I feel about yours."

Remus sighed but, seemingly despite himself, took two steps closer to her. "We've discussed this..."

"Too many times," Tonks shot back. "It's time you got your head out of this 'I'm not worthy' hole it's stuck in, and Merlin knows everyone but you can see that."

Remus frowned slightly. "That's not the issue; I've told you that you deserve—"

"Oh, screw what I deserve!" Tonks snapped. "If you think I'm so wonderful, then I deserve what I want, don't I?"

"Perhaps you don't know what you want. If you were to come to my flat tomorrow morning, I believe that would change."

"Maybe I'll come then!" Tonks retorted. "For the last time, _I don't care._ "

"Yes, but I care. Tonight—you don't understand—"

"You think I don't? I don't understand what?" She was really getting angry now, tired of talking in circles. For such a seemingly mild-mannered man, Remus Lupin could be awfully stubborn.

Remus closed his eyes for a moment. "What it will be like...you don't want to have to deal with me."

"I want nothing more than to _deal with you_ , Remus!" Tonks exclaimed, striding up to him. "I want to be there every month and bandage your cuts and buy you chocolate and make you _forget_ about this stupid _burden_ you've put on yourself! You're the one making it as bad as it is!"

Remus looked slightly startled by this outburst, as well as the fact that their faces were mere inches apart.

"Do you think I push you away because I don't care?" he asked hoarsely. "I love you—Merlin, I love you—and it's only because of that that I believe you deserve so much better."

As sweet as the words sounded to her ears, they had the ring of a goodbye. "Don't you get it?" she asked, wrapping her hands around the frayed edges of his patched jacket. "I don't want better. I want _you_."

Remus's hands moved up to cover hers, but he seemed to be searching for what to say.

"Let me love you, Remus," Tonks begged. "Please."

There was a long moment of silence, a silence that was both unbearable and comfortable. After all the months of waiting Tonks had done, a few more moments wouldn't kill her...although they might come close.

He met her eyes guardedly. "It will be dangerous, but..."

"But?"

"But I suppose we can try."

She closed the distance between them, and it was the kiss she'd waited so long for. Finally, _finally_ , he was here, in her arms, willing to let her love him at last, and she was ready to give him everything she had.

As they held each other close in the light of the dying sun, Tonks' hair turned as pink as a blush, as bright as the joy that was glowing inside of her. After so many months of desperate arguing, he was ready to give it a try.


End file.
